affection.
She dealt with enough media, being a female jockey and Damon Barrington’s daughter to boot. But a movie was a whole new level of limelight she really didn’t want to enter into.
And she’d had enough types like her smarmy ex to last several lifetimes.
As Tessa grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, the door behind her opened and closed. She straightened and turned to see Grant leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his wide chest, his eyes on her. Those eyes visually sampled her, and Tessa refused to enjoy the shudder rippling through her.
“Water?” she asked, holding up the bottle.
“No, thanks. What hours do you put into riding?”
Horse talk. Much safer ground.
Uncapping the bottle, she took a hefty drink. “Waking hours. But right now, I also tend each horse and clean stalls, until Dad hires a new groom. There’s always work to be done. I’m at the stables from morning till night. And on the nights I can’t sleep, I come over and ride to relax. I’ve been known to sleep in the barn.”
“You live close, then?” he asked.
Tessa nodded. “My property is the next one over, but it’s not near as big a spread as this. All of my horses are here.”
“Your dad mentioned your sister lives in a guesthouse.”
“Cassie and her baby live here.” Tessa rested her elbows on the granite island and squeezed her bottle. “She moved back onto the estate when her jerk husband left her, right after Emily was born.”
A muscle in Grant’s jaw ticked. “Not much of a man, leaving his wife and baby.”
Tessa warmed at his matter-of-fact statement. “On that we can agree. And since her ex was the previous groom, we obviously need a new one.”
“A female trainer and jockey,” Grant murmured. He held her gaze and smiled. “Isn’t that very unusual?”
This was a common question from people outside the racing world. “Yes, but we’re both good at what we do. There was a time not too long ago when women weren’t allowed to be trainers. My dad used to tell stories about how he’d sneak women into the stables early in the mornings, to help train his stock. He swore they were better for a horse’s demeanor, because men tend to be harsher, more competitive.”
Grant shifted his weight, leaning against the counter as if processing all she threw at him. “I read that in his bio. That’s quite intriguing, actually.”
Intriguing? Tessa didn’t want him using that word when he was staring at her with such intensity. Did the man ever blink? Or just mesmerize women with that heavy-lidded gaze?
“Cassie is the best trainer I’ve ever seen,” she told him, circling the conversation back to the reason for this little meeting.
“She’s older than you, right?” Grant asked.
“By three years.”
“She never had the itch to become a jockey?”
Tessa nearly laughed. Cassie was so gentle, so nurturing. She was much better left in the stables, where she could tend to the horses...many of which needed her gentle touch.
“No. She’s more a behind-the-scenes type.” Tessa took another drink of her water before replacing the cap. “My dad taught us every aspect of the racing industry. I was practically raised in a saddle. Cassie is more delicate. She’s perfect as a trainer. Me, on the other hand, I love the fast-paced adrenaline rush of the race.”
Grant smirked as he moved closer, stopping and resting his elbow on the counter beside her. “I wouldn’t think such a perfectionist, and someone who holds on to their control the way you do, would be such a fanatic about adrenaline rushes.”
Tessa turned her head, cursing herself when those dark eyes shot a shiver of arousal through her. “I have several layers, Slick. Don’t try to uncover too many at once.”
A corner of his mouth lifted, and she found herself staring at his dark stubble. How would that feel beneath her hand...her lips? Why was she letting him get to her? There were so many things she needed to focus on right now, and the feel of a man’s facial hair was nowhere on her list. Yet her skin still tingled, and she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she actually touched that dark stubble.
“I’d like to uncover as many layers as possible,” he murmured.
How did this man come onto the scene, literally hours ago, and already have such power over her heart rate?
“You sound hesitant,” she told him, holding his stare, refusing to be intimidated. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Grant laughed. “There’s a small annoyance in my contract.”
Tessa stood straighter, bothered that even with him leaning on the counter, she was shorter than him. Being petite was an advantage and requirement for a jockey, but right now she wished for a few more inches.
“Something in your contract?” she asked with a grin. “And what does it say? No flirting or charming while filming?”
“More like no seducing while filming,” he corrected, a hint of amusement lacing his voice.
Tessa swallowed hard. She was quickly drowning in deep waters. “Seducing? Is that what you are trying to do?”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, then moved back up to meet her gaze. “Oh, if I was seducing you, you’d know. Flirting is harmless, isn’t it?”
Was it? She wasn’t so sure anything about Grant Carter was harmless. Not his dark eyes, not his naughty grin and certainly not his smooth words, which washed over her, through her, like a breeze on a warm summer day.
In no time he had sent shivers down her spine, made her smile, attempted a rescue and had her questioning why she was hanging on to her virginity. None of that had happened with the last guy she’d dated and considered marrying.
The timing couldn’t be worse. Between the film and the upcoming races, she just didn’t have time to wonder why Fate had decided to dangle this all too alluring man in front of her.
And why she had to be so attracted to someone with the exact qualities of the jerk she’d just dumped a few months ago? Had she not learned her lesson when he’d tried to exploit her and when that failed, he’d tried to ruin her career, just so she’d be forced to marry him and move to some overpopulated, confining city? Had he honestly thought she’d hand over money for him to get his newfound business off the ground? If he had truly loved her, respected her career, she would’ve gladly supported him in any way. But he’d laid down ultimatums, and in the end Tessa had pointed him back to that city he loved so much.
She thanked God every day that she hadn’t tumbled into bed with him. She’d assumed they were getting married, and she’d wanted to make their honeymoon special.
Thankfully, she’d made a promise to her mother to wait for real love and marriage.
“Do we need to add that to the spreadsheet?” he
